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Turning around once I thought I had my expression under control, I had to laugh as Dante held up a small plate with plastic wrap carefully keeping a large brownie safe and a small plastic container of what looked like mac-n-cheese pizza. “You didn’t have to.”
Had he brought the pizza?
Dante scoffed and shook his head, making me want to smile for no logical reason at all. “You like brownies and I knew as soon as Max went up to corner you that they’d be gone before you were free.”
Yep, total Dad vibes.
Maybe even Daddy vibes.
Nope.
I didn’t flirt with students, even ones in the master’s program that I’d never taught.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” And yes, it had been Max. “And another slice of the pizza. It was really good.”
“No problem.” Looking like a proud caretaker and driving me crazy without seeming to realize it, he nodded toward the table with a few packages remaining. “Don’t forget your present. I saw your name on the red bag with candy canes on it.”
I liked candy canes.
Did my Secret Santa know that?
“I won’t.” Probably. I wasn’t usually too forgetful, but as we got closer toward the end of the semester that was questionable. “Thanks. Did you get yours?”
He wasn’t holding anything, but I was glad when he nodded. “Yes. I hope you enjoy yours.”
Dante inclined his head and then headed out of the room before I could ask what he’d gotten from his Secret Santa, but that was probably for the best. He tempted me in ways he shouldn’t. Shoot. I wasn’t even sure he was gay.
From what I’d seen, his friend group was so mixed he could be anything and he’d fit right in with them.
Which was great for him but frustrating from a nosy outsider’s perspective.
Not that I was curious about his personal life.
No. It wasn’t any of my business if he was dating the flirty redhead I’d seen him with at the coffee shop or the quiet guy who barely spoke in the club meetings…Sam, maybe?
Mentally sorting through the names of the kids in the club that started with an S so I could figure out who the shy young man was, I quickly cleaned up the last of the chairs that were out of place before I grabbed my present off the table.
It was heavier than I’d expected.
Most of the time when a student got me for anything like a Secret Santa exchange, I ended up with a gift card because buying for a professor was hard. I’d already mentally spent my five dollars at the local coffee shop, so I was stumped about what it could’ve been.
Had someone actually bought me a present?
The students had come up with the idea after learning that a few of the members wouldn’t be getting presents this year. They hadn’t told us who was struggling, but they said they’d taken care of it and wanted to do something fun in general.
The game they designed was that each present was supposed to be around five dollars and you’d give your Secret Santa a present at the last two meetings of the year. I had it on good authority that everyone who’d wanted to participate was able to, but the vague way they’d described it made it sound like the whole thing was rigged. But since it seemed to be for a good cause, I hadn’t called them out on it.
I still wasn’t sure that’d been the right decision, but Mike had said we shouldn’t hover over them too much. However, since he was an ethics professor, I was never sure if he was saying what he thought was right or if he was using us as an experiment.
It honestly could’ve gone either way with him and that might’ve been one of the reasons I’d never told him about my little side.
Turning off the lights and locking the door, I made my way out of the building and started heading across campus before I gave in to the compulsion to open my present. I wanted more privacy just in case.
I’d learned to be a bit more careful after a very glittery disaster my first year teaching and waited until I was almost off campus and just down the street from my small bungalow before I opened it and held it away from me for a few seconds.
I felt ridiculous when nothing exploded, but better safe than sorry when it came to glitter had been my motto since the unfortunate disaster.
Laughing as I looked into the Christmasy bag, I had a feeling someone hadn’t stuck with the budget, but I couldn’t help but get excited. “Where did they find these?”
